


Crash Landing

by Kibbers



Series: One Shots [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Grocery Store, M/M, One Shot, short and sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-03-01 21:18:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2788091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kibbers/pseuds/Kibbers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel loves racing grocery carts around the store he works at. Except (or especially) when they crash into gorgeous, tall, beautiful Sasquatches.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crash Landing

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, thanks for reading! Also, follow me on Tumblr [here!](http://kibberswrites.tumblr.com/)

Gabriel was flying. Green apron turned cape flapping behind him, hands gripping the red plastic handlebar, feet perched on the ledge of the shopping cart beneath him. What else is that spot for, right? He zoomed through the aisles, empty at the ungodly hour of 6 A.M. The only reason Gabe even took these shifts every morning was for this, for flying through the store unsupervised, trying to beat his record. He had wanted to look into making an official sport out of it, but not now. Now was the time to perfect his turning, today's goal: aisle 4, fruits and vegetables, and Gabriel's least favorite aisle. He passed aisle 1, 2, 3 and...he threw his hips right, dragging the back wheels along with him, almost spinning out into the cans of corn before it straightened. He did it. He threw one fist up, closed his eyes, and crowed with victory...

And crashed into something solid with the front of his cart. His chest hit the handle, knocking the wind out of him. He sank backwards, sliding onto the shoe-scuffed black and white checkered tile floor, hand clutching his stomach. He was gasping and sputtering for what felt like an eternity, hoping he wasn't inhaling the dust coating the floor as he did so, until finally he could breath again. His chest still ached whenever he inhaled too much, but he didn't think any ribs were broken. He tenderly felt around and satisfied that he was okay, started to stand up when a hand landed on his shoulder. Gabriel looked up into...perfection. Brown eyes, floppy brown hair falling on broad, solid shoulders. And damn was the man tall. He was crouched in front of Gabe and was still towering, all long limbs and joints everywhere. 

"Are you okay?" The man asked, but Gabe was distracted. His voice sounded like honey, like warm fires, like smooth grocery cart wheels sliding over tiled floors. Gabriel could hear that voice telling a story, singing a lullaby, humming a tune. He wanted to hear more of that. Then he started thinking about that voice whispering in his ear, what it would sound like to hear him moan and gasp. He  **really** wanted to hear that. The man's eyes were wide with concern, staring intently at Gabe and he let out a small gasp, hitting his chest to play it off like he was still recovering and hoping the man wouldn't see his blush. 

Then he realized the man was waiting for a response. A coherent response. Out loud. But Gabe couldn't do it. What if he hated Gabe's voice? What if once he saw how short Gabe was he'd leave? What if...and then he realizes he just crashed full speed into this man. Gabe springs up, narrowly avoiding crashing into the man's head, and starts to frantically look the man over for wounds. At least that's what he planned on doing. He got caught up when he saw the man's biceps, forearms, hands. God, Gabe was a hand's man and this man's were great, all tanned and veiny and calloused, but soft looking. 

He snapped back to making sure he wasn't hurt, and couldn't find anything. "Oh my God, are you hurt? I'm sorry I didn't know you were here. No one's here this early. How did I not know someone was here? And who buys fruit at six in the morning? What are you a moose?" He stopped when he realized he'd been rambling and looked up to see the corner of the man's lips quirk up in, hopefully, amusement. 

"No, I'm fine, really," the man said, "Are you? You hit pretty hard."

"Yeah, I'm fine," Gabe replied, suddenly realizing something. "Does that mean you saw me stick the turn? I've been working on it for weeks now and I finally got it. See, the trick is all in the hips. You've got to throw them in the opposite direction. I'm just glad i didn't crash into the fresh fruit again, it was a nightmare having to explain why the cantaloupe were all smashed. I'm surprised he didn't fire me, I obviously don't learn my lessons. What are you doing here anyways? And this early? And in this aisle?" Gabriel stared at the man, waiting for answers.

The man chuckled before saying, "I actually didn't see you 'stick your turn', i hadn't seen you coming at all, sorry," he said, sounding more sorry than he should for something like that. Then he continued, "I was here to pick up some fruit for a smoothie I wanted to make this morning, but obviously you had other ideas." Gabe almost started apologizing, but then he saw the smirk on the man's face and realized he was joking, that sarcastic little shit. 

"Yeah, well maybe if you weren't so much of a Sasquatch I wouldn't have hit you, you do take up the entire aisle," Gabe tossed back with a wink.

The man laughed, a gorgeous, booming laugh, his head thrown back exposing his long throat. Gabe could practically see his pulse pounding beneath the skin. Could see the vibrations of his laughter trail all the way up. Gabe realized he was staring and shot his eyes to the man's, and knew the man had seen him staring, but he didn't look upset, he looked content, amused, a little of something else, something more, but he was probably imagining it. His gaydar had been off lately, really off. It's been known to lead him into some problems. The man was probably irritated, hurt, disgusted. He jumped back, realizing how close they were standing and cleared his throat.

"Sorry, I should probably get back to work. I'll let you finish shopping, call if you need anything." He grabbed his runaway cart, straightened what he could, and walked away quickly back to his station at register two. He was messing around with the register, making a beat out of the buttons and bobbing his head like he was about to spit out a rap when the giant rounded the corner, setting his fruits and things onto the conveyor belt. Gabe scanned the items in silence, trying not to look at the man. 

"Your total is $10.89, go ahead and swipe your card," Gabe said, keeping his tone formal. Gabe watched the man's fingers wrap around the card to swipe, mouth going dry as long fingers typing his pin into the key pad, and scolded himself for staring yet again. He didn't even check to see if he was caught before he grabbed the man's bags and handed them to him, mumbling a, "Have a nice day," and turning back to the empty store. He wouldn't allow himself to watch the man leave. 

Then the man was back in the aisle, clearing his throat, his fingers twisting his backs back and forth. "Would you maybe want to get some breakfast?"

Gabriel lit up, before remembering he still had to work. "I would, but I don't get off until one."

"Like I said, would you like to get some breakfast? I'll meet you here at one."

Gabe nodded, exchanging his number with the man. "I never even caught your name," Gabe asked.

"It's Sam," The man replied.

"Nice to crash into you Samsquatch, my name's Gabe, but you can call me anytime," he delivered with a wink. Now that he knew Sam was interested, there was no harm in a little flirting.

Sam chuckled, his hand reaching towards Gabe's neck. He slipped one finger under the strap around his neck, leaning in close before whispering, "Nice cape," and walking out the finger-smudged sliding glass doors.


End file.
